Phantom
by bluedragon03
Summary: After father kills Hiyori, Yato just needs to escape, but he finds himself trying to save a mysterious girl he doesn't know. Loosely based on The Blacklist episode "Cape May." An experimental type fic.


He needed to get out of here.

He crawled out from under the oppressive atmosphere and jumped out the window. He landed silent like a cat.

Yato hitched a ride on the top of a car headed to god only knows where. He was a god but he didn't know.

He didn't care.

Anywhere was better than here.

About thirty minutes later his fingers were as numb as this insides, but he didn't care. The cold didn't numb away the deep burning that spread from the back of his neck, zapping away his energy.

Around two hours later the car took a turn too sharply, almost like they were trying to lose him- they weren't the only ones- and his stiff fingers lost their grip and he was thrown off the car. He fell over a hundred feet into the frozen ocean. That was fine. The cold wouldn't kill him.

He almost wished it would.

The sea washed him onto a rocky faraway shore lined on all sides by rockface.

He climbed up the cliff, the cold beating at his back, warring with the burning that was stabbing his core, he ignored both of them, limbs heavy.

At the bluff he was greeted by a run down inn that obviously hadn't seen action in years. Rocking chairs swayed in the heavy wind on the porch, paint flaking. A lopsided wind chime hung from the railing, half its notes on the ground. The lustre of the white paint had long since been stolen by the salty air. Yato picked the lock, a skill he'd nearly forgotten he had, something from a past life.

The furniture inside the inn was covered in white sheets, ghosts of the life these walls had once held. It was all gone now. Stillness hung in the air like cobweb, trapping anything that got too near.

He approached the ocean facing windows and threw open the curtains, stirring the long dead air. He watched the wind torn waves writhe and collapse against each other.

"Tonight there's going to be a storm," he said to no one. The gray sky said nothing.

He looked back to the cliff he had scaled and saw a young girl walking towards the edge; wind whipping her long hair back. As she approached the edge her scarf was ripped away. She didn't reach for it.

As she neared the edge Yato's sinking feeling neared the surface.

She couldn't be…?

She stopped at the edge of the cliff and slowly extended her arms on either side of her and Yato realized that she was.

He turned from the window and ran out the door, shouting. She didn't hear him. When he was ten feet away she fell and Yato jumped, arm extended.

His hand caught hers and he scrabbled for leverage as he struggled to drag her back over the edge, back towards life. It wasn't too late to undo her decision. He could still save her.

With great effort and much scrabbling of his feet he pulled her back to safety- away from the shore so far below. He panted a few times then turned to look at her.

She laid still and quiet, eyes closed.

Yato pulled her into his arms, her thin clothes were damp with sea spray and her skin was cold as death.

He carried her into the inn and laid her in front of the fireplace, ripping a sheet off a couch and tucking around her.

"I'll find a blanket," he said to a girl who could not hear him. He ran through the halls, opening every door until finally he came across the linen closet. He snatched the thickest one and ran back to the girl.

Her breath barely stirred the still air.

Yato laid the blanket over her gently. He lit the fire with matches from the mantle then looked upon her face, pale with cold. He took off his jacket and scarf and slipped under the covers so she was between the fire and himself, hoping that his body heat would help her recover.

"Hey," he whispered, pulling her close, "stay with me. It's not your time."

In her sleep she snuggled closer to his warmth and he sighed, slipping off into an exhausted sleep to the feelings of her soft breath on his face and someone else's grief burning his neck.

* * *

When he woke he was alone in a beam of moonlight next to the smoldering fire. He sat up, confused, and set out looking for her in the darkened inn.

He found her in an upstair room, wrapped up in his jacket, looking out of a window, face half in shadow.

He read concern and fear in the half of her face illuminated by the waning moon.

"He's here," she said, hiding in the half dark. "The man that's trying to kill me."

Yato took up residence at her shoulder and gazed out of the window.

"Do you see him?" She asked, "there! That's his shadow." Yato nodded.

"I'll take care of it," He said, striding away from her.

"You can't beat him," she called after him.

Yato crept through the halls, careful that the creaks of the old wooden floors wouldn't give away his position. Next to the fireplace he found an axe- for cutting wood, but not tonight. He palmed it and stepped outside slowly, carefully, close to the ground to avoid detection.

He stalked his prey down the long porch, following the flitting shadows like the darkness follows the moon. When he reached the corner he leapt up, axe in hand, ready to strike, and reeled back as his assailant struck his face.

* * *

"I found him," Yato said, humor in his voice as he entered the inn again. He lifted the shredded kite he'd found tangled up in the bannister. "I had no choice but to kill him." He looked up from his war prize and his mouth dropped open as his eyes landed on the girl, then shifted to the red eyes of her captor, then the gun he had pressed to her head.

"Come on now, why don't we talk about this? There's no need to be hasty," He looked away from the man's red eyes to the wide pink of the girl. She eyed the axe in his hands, set her jaw, then nodded.

The man gestured to the axe with his gun and gestured for Yato to cast it to the side.

"Okay, okay," he lifted his hands on either side of his hand, then like a cobra striking he threw the axe. Before the mad eyed man had a chance to react the axe buried itself in his forehead.

The girl prised herself from the corpses loosened grasp, stumbling forward and landing in Yato's arms at the same time the body fell backwards and hit the floor, exploding into nothing.

The axe and gun clattered to the floor, and after assuring himself the girl was uninjured Yato retrieved them.

"Take your pick," he said, holding his hands out to her, a weapon in each. She eyed them both carefully, then took the axe. Yato tucked the gun in his waistband and took her by the arm. "Come on, let's fix some food, I'm starving."

* * *

The two of them rifled through the ingredients in the cabinets. Not much was left, just some canned food and noodles.

"It looks like we have enough to make a risotto, but with canned ingredients I'm not sure how good it will be," he said, turning to face her with a can in each hand.

"Beggars can't be choosers," she said. He chuckled.

"I would know." She gave him a look that was slightly curious slightly sad, but didn't ask.

* * *

They sat at the small table in the kitchen, probably meant for a chef taking a break, separated by two tall candles Yato had found. They added a certain feeling of intimacy to the expired apple juice they shared and the canned food risotto Yato had made.

"It's the best I could do," Yato said, "so don't judge me based on this one meal alone, normally I'm a much better chef."

"Then how come you're always trying to bum free food from people?"

"How do you know that?" He asked. The girl chuckled and didn't elaborate.

"It's lovely," she said eventually. "Though I'm afraid if he doesn't kill me this expired fruit juice might."

"Who? Who is trying to kill you?"

"Don't you know?"

"How would I know that?" He asked indignantly. "Why don't you tell me about him?"

"He's my problem, not yours."

"I did just kill what I assume was one of his henchmen, so he's my enemy now too." The girl laughed, it was high pitched and cruel, it clashed starkly with her kind eyes.

"He doesn't care about his men. That man was cannon fodder."

Their meal was finished and the girl swept upstairs. Yato did a quick perimeter check before following her.

He found the girl sitting next to the filling bathtub, her hand under the tap and her head resting on her arm.

"Cold," she said. "There's no hot water."

"Frankly I was surprised that there was running water."

Silence.

"Have you ever killed anyone before?" The girl asked softly. No fear, just curiosity. Yato turned his back to her and slid down the wall so he sat facing the bedroom.

The back of his neck pained him sharply, deeper this time.

"More than I care remember."

"How many of them deserved it?"

"None of them."

"That's a distinction they never learned."

"Who? The people trying to kill you?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about them."

"There's no point. You can't save me."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"I know you're capable of good, or else you wouldn't still be here. Leave, don't let that goodness disappear for someone who is already dead."

"What about your goodness?"

"I used it all up." The girl turned off the tap and pulled the plug on the bath. The water drained out and the girl swept past him.

Yato followed her into the main room where she cast open the curtains on the rest of the windows then turned to face him haloed in moonlight. An angel.

"You're a god of fortune." Yato blinked with surprise.

"How did you know?"

"I always knew, longer than you even."

"What do you mean? How do you know so much about me?" She smiled softly, pink eyes glowing.

"Because I love you."

"I don't even know your name." She giggled.

"Don't be silly, Yato." Yato watched as she slipped past him and into the dark, quiet as a ghost.

* * *

"Yato!" She called, grabbing his attention. He followed the sound of her voice to where she stood, next to a window again, looking out at the tall grass. She pointed at a dark mass moving against the wind.

"It's time," she said.

"Time for what?"

"Time for you to let me go," she said gently.

"I'm not leaving you!" Yato said, voice cracking as he seized her arm and pulled her close, gazing desperately into her calm eyes. She watched him with a sad smile and reached up to caress his cheek. Dark purple stain spread to her hand, but she didn't flinch.

"There are other people who need you."

"Like who?"

"You already know."

"I only care about you!"

"Then kill the wolves," she said gently, pointing again to the dark mass in the tall grass. He nodded.

"I'll protect you." The girl didn't respond.

* * *

Yato crept through the grass, an apex predator hunting what was lower on the food chain. The wind carried his sound and scent away from the wolf that prowled. One shot, pressed against its side to mute the sound. Blood sprayed across his white shirt. The girl still had his jacket.

A set of teeth sank painfully into his shoulder and he shouted in surprise and pain. There was a scuffle and a bang, and the wolf fell to the ground. The burning in his back was worse now, deeper, heavier, and spreading, but he ignored it. He had a job to do.

There were three more wolves. He killed them all, then re-entered the inn to tell the girl they should make a break for it.

"Hello?" He called. No reply. "Helloo?"

He climbed the steps to check the upstairs. His stomach dropped when he glanced out of the window and saw her standing there, axe nowhere in sight, facing off against a man with a monks staff.

He ran down the stairs as fast as he could, stumbling and rolling down the last few. He scrambled to his feet and burst out the door, shouting to get the man's attention. He turned to look.

Yato's heart froze with fear.

The girl attacked him and he caught her by the neck easily. He lifted her in the air so her legs kicked for traction and she glared at him, eyes full of fearless fire. The man held the girl to the cliff as Yato's feet flew, barely touching the ground. He wasn't going to make it.

The man released her.

"Hiyori!" Yato cried, following her over the edge of the cliff.

She fell with her back to the ground, soft eyes fixed on him as her hair whipped around her face, wind tearing at her clothes.

"It's time to let go," she said softly.

"Don't leave me!" Yato cried, voice ripped away by the wind. He reached out for her, but she was just past his reach.

Yato's hit the rocky beach hard, several of his bones shattered on impact.

"Hiyori," he coughed, struggling to roll over to look for her, but she wasn't there.

Yato was alone on the cold beach with his burning blight. Hiyori was gone.

Realization hit like a punch to the jaw.

The Hiyori that he'd jumped for had been but a phantom, the Hiyori he'd failed hadn't been.


End file.
